


Possession

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom Allison, F/F, Orgasm Denial, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia rampages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

The scream echoed around Lydia’s head, until it was all she could hear. When she finally saw her body, she wasn’t surprised, and angry tears leaked onto her cheeks. She dropped Stiles’ weak form, and buried her face into Allison’s hair. She was dragged away at some point, and as the moon waxed, anger replaced any of her remaining feelings.

They killed the nogitsune after that, after killing all the oni with silver bullets, the trickster fox was easier to fell. Kira directly killed it with the new sword, and the werewolves made sure to keep the demon on his heels and unsuspecting. Stiles’ skin was scarred where Kira stabbed the nogitsune, but he was not killed, only further weakened. Lydia didn’t care the cost as long as it was dead.

Her nights lacked sleep, and she would turn fitfully thinking of the men allowed to live when her huntress, her best friend had to die. She said it once at a pack meeting, and they gave her pitying looks. The same looks they gave her when Peter was inside her head, and they called her crazy. _Peter_ had the guts to smirk at her words. She was going to kill him first.

Lydia began to research banshees obsessively, like she had after Jennifer told her. She found nothing new, nothing for offensive purposes. She slammed her laptop closed and lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling and imagining their limbs strewn about. She would make sure there was no way for Peter Hale to resurrect himself again.

The next day she made a meeting with Ms. Morrell, who was at the school exclusively all month for grief counseling. The woman must have been expecting her to show up at some point, and she didn’t seem surprised when Lydia sat before her.

"How are you holding up?" she asked delicately, her tone softer than Lydia had ever heard.

"I’m not here for that," Lydia answered crisply, "I want to know how banshees attack."

Marin tilted her head, “Lydia, with that knowledge you could easily unbalance our world-“

"So you’d rather have me helpless and screaming every time a friend dies?" Lydia snapped, cutting her off.

Marin sighed, and answered, “No. I just want to remind you now, if you throw the balance, I’ll have to kill you.”

Lydia nodded, and Marin continued, “You can call for death. If you can build up the intensity of a death scream before it happens, you can direct it. It will happen within moments, but your victim can still kill you if they find you in time. You can’t control the side effects.”

"It will work over any distance?" Lydia asked.

"Yes. The further away though, the stronger your determination must be."

Lydia nodded, “Will the others know it was me?”

"Unlikely, Deaton will, but I doubt he’ll tell anyone. Write down their names," Marin said.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, “Why?”

"To make sure you’re only killing those worthy of it, and because if anyone else dies, I’ll assume you went rogue." 

Lydia wrote down the five names, and pushed the list forward.

The older woman read the names quickly, her expression stable, “Good hunting.”

The hunt was good, and almost too easy in retrospect. If she had known before what she could do… Well, it was no matter now. Peter had gone easily, a herd of wild mountain lions had ripped him apart, and devoured his limbs. Nothing of the man remained, and Lydia felt a dark kind of peace.

The twins had been messier, her first scream provoked them to fight each other, but it wasn’t strong enough for them to die. The two wolves tore each other up, gushing blood and anger, but it wasn’t lethal. Two more screams fixed that, and they were found dead in one another’s arms.

Gerard was almost too easy; death was already lingering in his body. His death looked completely natural, and hadn’t raised any suspicions. Chris had almost been waiting for it to happen, for him to be the last Argent, a lone soldier.

Deucalion she had been worried about, the Alpha would know a banshee was calling for his death, and she was willing to bet he would find her in time. So she waited until her mother was away for the weekend, and got a jar of mountain ash and powdered wolfsbane from Allison’s room. She said she had left a sweater there with wet eyes, and Chris had told her to take as long as she needed, he’d be working in the garage.

She made two mountain ash circles around her, because she didn’t trust the Demon Wolf to have not found a way to circumvent them by now, and filled her palms with the purple powder. Pulling all of her anger and frustration from her gut, she let out her loudest scream yet. The wolf never made it outside his house, crumpling instantly.

Lydia felt his death, and collapsed in the circle- content and tired. She had done it. A laugh passed her lips, and she hoped Allison was proud. (The laugh quickly turned to hysterical tears.)

When the hauntings started years later, when she was at MIT, she expected it to be from one she had murdered. Wasn’t that what all the ghost stories said? Instead she saw Allison, ethereal and pouting.

_You’ve been having sex with women._

Lydia laughed, because she was half convinced she had pulled one too many all nighters, and how would that be at the top of Allison’s priorities?

 _Lydia_ , the voice repeated, and she wondered when her memory nailed voices so well. And perhaps it was because she was working on some thermodynamics problems at four in the morning, and wanted a distraction- but she answered.

"No comments about the murders, or your father- really Allison?"

_I have no complaints there._

Laughter bubbled out of Lydia, “I really need some sleep. Why am I talking to a hallucination? This is ridiculous.”

And the voice didn’t answer, but she could still feel her eyes when she undressed and went to sleep.

Allison’s voice didn’t come back the following night, or the next, or for the next month, and Lydia was convinced she had made it up. Too little sleep, too much academia- it was bound to do weird things to her mind. One night she had sex with the hot waitress who worked just off campus, and she felt a bit of guilt. (The morning after she felt incredulous that she had felt even slightly guilty about the action- besides Allison being dead, they had never been sexual or exclusive.)

The following night, Allison came back. Lydia was lying in bed, idly rubbing her clit and broadly fantasizing. The warm voice froze her movements.

_Do you mind if I watch?_

"You’re not real," Lydia said with a swallow, trying to push back the flush that rose in her cheeks. The faint figure of Allison was sitting on the corner chair, her lips upturned and her hair braided.

Allison chuckled, Does that mean you don’t mind?

"I don’t need my subconscious passively watching me masturbate like a creep," Lydia hissed.

Allison chuckled, _I never said I’d be passive… after you fucked the waitress last night? You think I don’t want to punish you and watch you squirm?_

Lydia felt her whole body flush, and was annoyed at herself- her fantasies weren’t supposed to get away from her, and this one most certainly was. Before she could make any disparaging remark though, Allison spoke again.

_Get out your dildo and plug…and lube too I suppose._

Lydia automatically opened the drawer on her bedside table, real or not, she wasn’t going to stop this.

_Good girl, now coat the toys with lube and insert them. Do **not** fuck yourself with them yet._

Lydia raised a brow, but complied. Her own fantasies weren’t usually this intricate or so… controlling. It was a nice change of pace though.

_Lovely. You can move the dildo in and out of you slowly- yes, just like that. Spread your legs wider- good. Now we’re going to play a game while you fuck yourself, don’t worry you won’t have to do much, just don’t come. Okay?_

Lydia managed to nod her head weakly, already feeling loopy from the toys and Allison’s voice.

_If you ever have sex with another person, you’ll be put in a chastity belt. Perhaps one with plugs, would you like to walk around all day plugged up? What a silly question, of course you would. Fuck yourself faster Lydia, I want to see your cunt shake._

_Have you imagined me before Lydia? Have you fingered yourself thinking of me? Did you feel guilty after?_

"Didn’t imagine, before," Lydia gets out through harsh breaths, her torso vibrating as her pleasure built further.

_No? Well, I suppose we have a lot to catch up on then. Do you want to orgasm Lydia?_

"Mhmm," Lydia moaned, her hips bucking up off the bed.

The ghost stood, _Tough. You should have thought of that before banging the waitress. I’ll be back tomorrow night, don’t come before then._

"Allison! Please!" Lydia begged, but the spirit had already dissipated. With a sigh, she removed the two toys, and laced her hands under her head to avoid the temptation of touching her empty holes. It was going to be a long twenty-four hours, and she _really_ needed to find out if ghosts were real.


End file.
